Rescue Me
by GraceTheAuthor
Summary: Abuse. It was all she knew, every day. She never knew what would happen next and her only solace was a song she heard, and her favorite books, ones that led to different worlds. She would get lost in those worlds, the ones with magic, mystery and mighty creatures where the good guys always win and the girl is always rescued. She wished she could live there, anywhere but here.
1. Thrown Away

"You're fucking worthless!" the words are screamed into her face with alcoholic breath, and she cowers, fear twisting in her belly. "Why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to put water in the soap?"

"You told me to, so that we could have more soap for longer," she whispered. "You said it was better than having to buy it all the time."

Her father grabbed her hair and yanked on it to make her stand up from her seat at the table. She looked at him in terror, knowing what was coming but unable to stop it. A solid fist connected to her jaw and her head snapped to the side. Burning, throbbing pain spread through her nervous system and she fought tears.

"Fucking useless piece of shit," he hissed. "I don't know why I keep your stupid ass around. I should just toss you out on the street, you filthy whore."

She hid the hope in her soul, burying it deep down so that he could not see it. So she turned her head and began to beg him to not throw her out, please. He grew angrier and angrier the more she pleaded. Finally he let go of her hair and shoved her to the ground.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," he snarled, kicking her in the ribs with a steel toed boot. She begged and begged him not to toss her out until he snapped and began to pound on her with his boots and fists. She covered her head as she felt her ribs crack. He pounded on her for what felt like forever.

When he finally stopped she was once more grabbed by her hair, and he dragged her to the door. Every cracked rub, every bruise, every possibly broken bone screamed. She begged him with what little breath she could muster not to toss her outside in the freezing cold.

"Daddy, please," she cried, grasping at the hands that held her long hair in a painful grip. "Daddy, don't do this, please, Daddy." He ignored her and continued to drag her. He dragged her down the stairs and halfway down, he let go just to let her head bounce on the edge of a stair. She cried out as blinding pain stabbed her skull, tears falling from her eyes. Black swam in her vision as he once more grabbed her hair and drug her.

She was crying by now, heaving sobs that wracked her frame, causing more pain. The stairs evened out into straight floor and he dragged her to the front door. He opened it, grabbed her by her arms and literally threw her out onto the hard concrete. Her head bounced, her ribs cracked even more and she bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood. She curled up into a ball of pain and shivered at the cold winter air. The ground was cold, icy, deadly.

She heard the door close and laid there for an eternity, unable to move. She didn't know how much longer afterwards it was, but the door opened and hard things were thrown at her before it closed again. She raised her throbbing head and opened her eyes to see her most treasured possessions, the ones he saw as completely worthless.

A small, damaged iPod and four books-The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy. At that moment, she was grateful. She had faith that as long as the had this things, she would be okay.

Groaning, weeping in pain, she gathered her belongings and stood up. Her dizzy head throbbed with a vengeance, causing her eyesight to blur and her ribs were in absolute hell. But she was determined to walk and despite all odds, she did, stinging along the sidewalk. The girl had a destination in mind and she was going to get there, even if she died trying.


	2. The Hospital

She made it to the library and stumbled her way inside once the automatic doors opened. It was warm inside and she sighed in relief as the warm air kissed her icy skin. Then hissed in pain as her cracked ribs screamed at her. She would have walked to the hospital, but it was too far and too cold for her to go, especially with her injuries. She couldn't see out of her right eye, her head hurt and made her dizzy if she moved too fast, not to mention she was sure her ribs and her left fingers and wrist were cracked. She could barely move that hand without wanting to throw up.

She made her way into the main part of the library and one of the librarians gasped at the sight of the poor girl. She first called for a security guard, one whose name was Garrett, then called the police. Garrett was kind to her, helped her sit down and tried to ask what happened, but her bottom lip was split which made talking painful, not to mention she seemed dizzy and in a tremendous amount of pain. Tears escaped her left eye as she held tightly to her books and her beat up iPod. Garrett's heart went out to the girl and he didn't leave her side until the police and the paramedics arrived.

The paramedics moved quickly upon seeing the brutally beaten young woman and proceeded to check her over with gentle but firm hands. She whimpered when they touched her ribs and left hand, and nearly passed out when one of them touched a massive bump on the back of her head. The paramedics brought in a litter for her to lie on before gently strapping her in. They swiftly heaved her onto the wheeled bed to get her into the ambulance. Once settled, they drove to the hospital where she would be looked at and questioned.

A small crowd had gathered from afar to watch and whisper in hushed tones, concerned and sympathetic, many of them sad to see someone in a state such as that. Garrett shooed them all off and the librarians would hover over every now and then. Once the girl and the paramedics left, everyone was left wondering if she would be okay, praying for her well-being.

Once at the hospital, she was rushed to an x-ray room where they got her prepped to have her bones examined. She hurt to move so they had a kindly nurse help her remove the thin, dirty clothes she wore. She couldn't stop the tears and the nurse, who had a daughter of her own, did her best to comfort her, hugging her very gently and stroking the girl's cheek in a motherly way. After they took the x-rays, they told her she had cracked ribs, a fractured wrist and broken fingers as well as a black eye and a large contusion on the back of her head, not to mention severe bruising all over her body. A nice male doctor came in to set her casts. She felt as if she could trust him, for his brown eyes were warm and he smelled like pine.

However, once he got started on applying the cast to her fingers and wrist, the pain was too much and her body shut down, causing her to black out. They roused her after the cast was set, not wanting her to go to sleep. The contusion on the back of her skull was a big warning flag for a possible concussion.

When she came to, she was in the nurse's lap, the kindly doctor looking over her with worried brown eyes. They helped her stand up and moved her to a room where they would watch over her. They gave her some soft foods and pain meds, some water and someone had thoughtfully given her headphones to listen to her iPod with, as well as her books. She sighed as the pain meds began to work and picked up her iPod right as the two police officers came in to question her.

Who had beaten her and why? Her father because thought it was a good idea to punish her for stupid things.

How often did he beat her? Everyday.

How old was she? She would be 18 in two months, December 28th.

They continued questioning her until the nurse from earlier came in and shooed them out. They promised that he would be arrested that very night, and that he was going to jail for a long time.

Once the nurse had made sure that she was comfortable, she scrolled through the songs on her iPod and landed on a favorite of hers. It was a song sung by a woman named Eurielle and she adored Eurielle. She opened The Hobbit and began to read. After awhile her eyes grew heavy and she knew she should stay awake, but she was tired. She'd succeeded in escaping her father, he was no longer going to be in her life and she had her music and her books. But it was all she had, and she was tired and tired of living. All she had known was pain, and it would be nice, she reasoned, to just gently drift off, especially since the pain meds were making it very easy to do.

Yeah, good idea. No more pain.

She wrote a small note with the pen and pad of paper that was in the little nightstand next to her hospital bed before snuggling when into the blanket to close her eyes. She drifted off into darkness and her body went slack. She smiled, looking peaceful despite the bruises, fractures and bright blue cast on her left fingers and wrist. Later, the nurse would come in, see her sleep and know-she was gone. She cried when she read the note and was found sitting on the edge of the girl's bed, note in hand, thinking, "What if this was my little girl?"

The note read;

Thank you. None of it is your fault. I am free now.


	3. Elleth

Snow fell, swirling softly and rapid upon the trees, brushing against the leaves to gently land upon the ground. Winter was heavy upon the great forest and all was quiet, save for small creatures that scurried about every now and then. The temperature was biting, seeping through the layers of armor and thick leathers that the Elves on patrol wore. One rode on a mighty bull elk, nine others on magnificent horses. Snow crunched softly beneath metal shod hooves, blending with the faint clinking of armor.

The one on the elk ride at the head of the patrol, eyes of ice blue scanning the surroundings. Those pale eyes widened as he reined in his mount, holding up a staying hand to the others. They halted and watched warily as their leader dismounted to stride through the snow. The pale eyed male walked twenty paces, then crouched down and brushed the snow away from a barely visible figure. His head tilted as he frowned and removed his heavy red cloak to lay it upon the figure.

He brushed away more snow, tucked the cloak beneath the body, then oh so carefully lifted it up and turned back around. The others had expressions of shock as their leader strode towards them with a female in his arms, wrapped in his cloak. Upon reaching his mount, he barked orders and one of the other males dismounted and took the female from the leader's arms. The pale eyes male mounted his elk, then took the female back into his arms, settling her close against his armored chest. He looked down at her, worry in his heart.

She was naked beneath his cloak, her skin pale and tinged blue with the beginnings of frostbite. Bruises and scars littered her body, and he thought he saw broken bones in her hands. They weren't ordinary injuries, he knew. Someone had been extremely violent with her.

His icy eyes turned hard as he barked another order, spurring his elk into a smooth canter. The others fell in alongside him, guarding the rear and flanks of the entire party as they rushed back towards the city as fast as they dared.

The leader knew that if the weather was trying to him and his men, then it was the hardest of ordeals for the unconscious female in his arms. And that worried him.


	4. Physical Wounds

_Hey guys, I'm sorry chapter 3 was so short, but I had ended it there because it felt like the best place. I hope this one makes up for it. Also, sorry it took me so long. Life sucks._

For days she slept, in and out of wakefulness. Murmuring when she wasn't quite in her mind, speaking of all she had endured. Sometimes she screamed and screamed, stuck in her memories. The healers did what they could for the fragile, injured elleth, hearts aching for the violence she had witnessed. The pale eyed one came to see her often, as much as his duties allowed him. He was drawn to her in a way he did not know how to describe, other than concern for her health and well-being, and so sat in a chair by her side every night before he went to bed and every morning before his duties.

It was then, on the fifth day as the bright sun began to rise and color everything rosy pink, that she awoke with a start. She sat up swiftly, then stopped and whimpered as her ribs protested the movement. She gasped softly for breath, leaning forwards. Through the pain, she vaguely noticed she was wearing a thin nightgown made of soft material and wondered who had dressed her.

"You should be careful, M'lady," he drawled softly, causing her to startle. "You have been seriously injured, and there is only so much the healers can do." She looked at him with wide, eyes then seemed to realize where she was and sat straight up to look around, noting the fireplace, the chairs, the desk with a bottle of ink and a quill besides it. Her gaze looked at everything, eventually coming back to rest on the male in the chair. She liked him immediately, just based on the feeling she got from him, but remained wary.

He was stunning, she mused inside her head. What with long and straight white blonde hair tucked behind slightly pointed ears, chiseled features, his darker brows that raised just a little as he regarded her with a watchful expression. He was dressed finely in silvery blue clothing that seemed to be some sort of silk, the color complimenting his skin and hair tone. But it was his eyes, his captivating eyes that held hers.

Oh, she had never seen such eyes. The palest of blue, dark rings along the outer edges with small, vibrant flecks of bright azure. She sat very still, not even blinking.

He studied her. She sat very still and very straight, her eyes on him. Her hair was a wavy, tangled mass of honeyed brown locks that fell just above her too thin waist, not quite covering her pointed ears. Her skin was pale, dark purple bruises resided beneath eyes of warm amber so bright it was almost a rich shade of topaz. Her eyes were like warm honey and held secrets within their depths, hidden sorrows. Deep and aching pain that resonated with his own agonized heart.

He stood to move closer and and she flinched, honeyed eyes turning into a dark, dull brown instantly. He saw the fear in her gaze, noted the way her too frail body shivered with dread. He raised a long fingered hand towards her face and a whimper escaped her lips. His heart clenched. The pale eyed male touched her check with a gentle hand, thumb rubbing soft circles on her cheekbone, a calming tactic his nana had used on him so many years ago. She relaxed a bit and searched his face, the dull honey warming to dark amber.

She sighed, leaning her cheek into his hand, eyes closing and there was a strange yearning in his soul.


	5. Of Names And Places

Once she had eaten, she wanted to know where she was, who he was, what he and everyone else was, and many other things.

"I am the Elvenking, Thranduil Opherion of Mirkwood Forest," he told her. "I am an elf, and so are you, Little One." She seemed startled by this news, eyes wide and alarmed as she reached up to feel her own ears, gasping when she brushed her ear tips.

"Is this real?" she asked of him, trembling. "I remember being in that hospital, I know that I..." She choked on her words. She was clearly distressed.

"It is real as I know it to be," he replied. "Should this be a dream, take comfort in the fact that you are in a safe place." He took one of her small hands into his own, careful not hurt her as he stared directly into her eyes.

"No harm shall come to you, I swear by my word as king." A sob escaped her lips and she hung her head, hair falling into her face. He held her hand, unsure what else to do as she wept.

When she was done, she dried her face and looked at him.

"What be your name, Little One?" he asked of her.

"I...I," she stammered. "I fear I do not know. I was only ever Girl, or Worthless. "

"Is there a certain name or thing you like?" He asked. "One cannot simply call you Girl." She thought for a moment

"Then may I give you a name? It is tradition for others to give their children and friends a name."

"We are friends?" a small spark of hope warmed her eyes. He nodded once. She smiled and her smile was dazzling for it lit up her entire face.

"I have always loved the sun," she told him. He thought for a moment, taking in her amber eyes and honey brown hair.

"Melanor," he told her.

"What does it mean?"

"Loosely translated, it means Love of Sun."

"I like it. Thank you."

"You are very welcome, Melanor."

Melanor smiled at him and he gave a slight smile back.

"I will leave you to get dressed," Thranduil told her, resting a hand upon her head before turning away. "I will send a maid to help you." He reached the door and turned back to look at her slim, delicate form sitting in the large bed.

"Have her take you to my study once you are done," he gave another slight smile to reassure her. "I will see you very soon.

Melanor stared after him long after he had left, thoughts swimming in her head. He was nice even though he was a bit reserved, nicer than even the nurses and paramedics who'd treated her before she came here. She liked him, and she didn't really trust men all that much, with the exception of the cop, paramedics and doctor. But that was only cuz she had known for sure that they were going to help her.

Deciding she might as well try to dress, she carefully climbed out of bed and wandered over to look out the window. She admired how the snow fell upon the ground, coating everything in beautiful, cold, white softness.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Melanor whirled around in surprise, eyes wide, pupils dilated from sudden fear at the voice behind her. The maidservant frowned then shook her head.

"I'm here to help you dress, Lady Melanor," she said, walking over to the armoire to open it.

"Oh, um, thank you," Melanor murmured softly, shying away. "Are there clothes even in there?"

"Of course," the maid replied, pulling out a soft, creamy rose colored gown. "His Majesty had it stocked for you while you've been ill." Melanor stared at the maid, then the gown.

It was beautiful, with long, fur capped sleeves, neckline and matching hem. It looked so soft, so unlike anything the elleth had seen in her life. She stepped forwards to reach out and touch it, only to give a small, almost inaudible gasp as she did so. It was soft, felt warm on her fingers, and the fur felt like rabbit. She had only ever touched rabbit fur once in her entire life and she had been 4 years old, when her mom had been alive and taken her to see the petting zoo at the county fair.

Tears welled in Melanor's eyes as she remembered and she sat in the chair that the King had sat in only minutes before. The maid crooned softly at seeing the fragile elleth's sad expression of loss, setting the gown upon the bed. She took Melanor's hands into her own and stroked a tear from her cheek.

"It's alright," she murmured. "You'll be okay." Melanor's tears fell freely at such kindness, and it was awhile before both elleths stood up. The maid helped Melanor into the beautiful gown, showing her how to undo the many small buttons in the back before brushing her honeyed brown hair to shimmer down her back. She tsked at the broken ends of her hair and grabbed a towel from the bathroom to place around Melanor's shoulders while she cut the dead ends off.

In the midst of this, Melanor realized she didn't know the other woman's name, and asked her.

"M name is Fainiel, Milady," she replied.

"What does it mean?" Melanor wondered.

"It means 'White Daughter,' Milady," Fainiel replied. "You mean to tell me you do not know our language?"

"No," Melanor replied softly, looking down. "I wasn't raised as an Elf. I only know the language we speak now, but I do not know even the name of that."

"We call it Common Tongue," Fainiel replied. "but there is also the tongues of the Dwarves, Quenyan and Sindarin elves, orcs, goblins, you name it."

"Oh," Melanor said. Once they were done with her hair, and it fell down her back in waves, with two small, long braids at her temples, Fainiel smiled.

"There, now you look like a lady," she beamed. "Well, I shall lead you to the study. His Majesty requested that you join him there."

"Alright," she replied. "Thank you, Fainiel."

"It is not a problem to me at all, Milady," the maid shook her head. "It is my job, and one I love, at that. Follow me, if you will, please."

She led the way out of the room and into the hall where Melanor stared in awe at the beauty of the palace as they walked. She was so absorbed in taking in the details of everything around her, that she nearly knocked into Fainiel. Melanor flinched and shied away, her natural instinct, and Fainiel only gave her sad eyes and a bright smile before ushering her towards the study door.

"It's alright," she said. "Go on, he's waiting." She shooed at Melanor and then hurried off, leaving the other elleth to stare at her retreating form before looking at the massive oaken doors of the library.

She took a deep breath and pushed on the doors, ready to bolt.


End file.
